


A VERY RELEVANT CHRISTMAS

by vanhunks



Series: CHRISTMAS MIRACLES [5]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: On Christmas Eve, the almost sixteen year old Katie Janeway, daughter of Kathryn and Chakotay, experiences teenage angst and seems to be angry at the world. Final story in the "Christmas Miracles" series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount owns Janeway, Chakotay, Seven of Nine.

* * *

 PART ONE

The Indiana moon gleamed against the black sky with stars dotted like cold diamonds on a dark velvet cloth.

Silence hung in the air as Katie Janeway stared out the window. She shivered, although there was a warm golden glow about the room. Outside the landscape was stark and aloof. Earlier she had watched snowflakes drift noiselessly down and she'd wondered ever since she was a little girl, how the cold beauty of snow could capture her soul so much.

Her father had fixed the old swing that hung from her favourite tree, the same tree her mother cursed whenever she tripped against its exposed root. Right now, the tree appeared ghostly, causing her to shudder at the thought of its branches appearing like arms of doom.

Katie glanced into the room. The fireplace was ablaze with a crackling fire. Smiling, she recalled her childhood, how she boasted about the size of their fireplace to Miral Paris. Miral had stormed off in a rage and when she'd visited Palings, the home of the Paris clan, saw the giant fireplace in the equally giant lounge and she'd felt suitably chastised at bragging in advance. She and Miral had soon made up again, the truce lasting just long enough for the next bragging session.

It was the time of the year Katie loved best. Winter. Wonderland of snowy landscapes, trudging unerring paths with her father down to the creek where the water had frozen over. Then they skated together on the ice. Katie smiled again. She had to teach her father to skate. Her mother had tried unsuccessfully since two healthy competitive egos didn't go together and Papa had fallen once too often. With Katie it had been different. She was patient and they'd laughed together a lot, but the cold got him every time.

"I've never known cold this cold," he'd always complained. "Give me the sinkholes of the Yucatan anytime!"

And how she hated those sinkholes, always glaring with jealousy the way Miral Paris easily dived down with Chakotay to swim through an underwater cavern only to emerge triumphantly in another cenote. Miral couldn't skate. So there.

Chakotay had become quite proficient too, despite his non-stop complaints. They'd moved around the hard surface, their blades scraping the ice to the accompaniment of unheard music, like an interlude from Swan Lake or "Somewhere, my love", Grandma Gretchen's favourite twentieth century song. Smiling again to herself, she remembered how proud she'd been the previous year when she'd been placed second in the figure skating event. After that she'd made the decision to cease competitive skating, much to her father's disappointment, but her mother's approving nod. She and Miral were going to start their Academy life in the new year. Time for sporting pastimes was to be reduced to practicing only.

The window was cold to her gloveless fingers, light frost giving it an eerie, unearthly appearance. Tonight it was harder absorbing the cold beauty of the landscape beyond the window and not remain mad at her father.

Katie loved it here - the snowy landscape, the clear sky, the warmth of the room giving her a sense of belonging. It was also a night of memories. This room was where she'd first been introduced to her mother, Kathryn Janeway. She'd learned when she was six that Kathryn Janeway was her real mother and that Annika Hansen had only given birth to her. But she'd been drawn to Kathryn Janeway long before that, from the moment her father had taken out the framed photograph of Kathryn and placed it on his bed stand just months after Annika Hansen died. Katie'd been just four years old then, but it was enough for her to treasure forever the meeting that night when blue-grey eyes met blue-grey eyes. In an angelic instant - Grandpa Adam always talked about angels bending near the earth - two lonely souls learned of the wonder of miracles 

Kathryn Janeway was her mother, yet a strange pull to the woman who had given birth to her seemed especially strong tonight. She'd been thinking of Seven of Nine often during the last few weeks as Christmas drew nearer.

Now, on Christmas eve, Katie felt out of sorts, with nervous misgivings about her father's enigmatic message. They were all at the chapel at Headquarters for the midnight service and for once Katie was glad the itch who called himself her younger brother was also with them. Sometimes she hated Edward Adam with a passion.

Katie turned to look at the large room, forcing thoughts of Edward Adam away from her and relegating her father's sad look just before he left with her mother for the service to the back of her mind. The fireplace was breathtaking, the Christmas tree which her mother always insisted had to be real pine, beautifully decorated. All the gifts were safely tucked under the tree.

Keely, her Irish setter and granddaughter of Missy lay near the fireplace. Missy had died when Katie was ten. Missy used to chase anything that moved, but Keely was a real lady who refused to bound through the snow after them the way Missy had done.

She gave a little sigh. On a square corner table of darkly polished wood lay a PADD. She'd avoided it all evening but now, unable to bear the uncertainty and curiosity any longer, she stared at it. Her father had put it there earlier after she'd refused to take it from his hand.

"It's from Mama, Katie. A special message for you to read on your sixteenth birthday."

"Mama is dead, Papa."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her mother, Kathryn Janeway, hover anxiously, trying to move behind Chakotay so she couldn't be seen or didn't have to witness the altercation between father and daughter.

"I know, honey. Do you remember that year you were so ill and no one could cure you?"

"Two of my classmates died that year, Papa."

"I - yes, sweetheart."

"By the time you returned from Almor IV."

She knew she'd sounded accusing. Chakotay had given a long-suffering sigh.

"Mama's nanoprobes saved you, remember?"

They'd told her afterwards about the nanoprobes. They'd called Seven of Nine a miracle worker with the face of an angel. An angel that did not only bend near the earth, but touched them all with her gift of life.

Yes, they'd told her. A year before that they'd also told her that Seven of Nine was not her real mother but that Kathryn Janeway had donated her egg to be implanted in a sterile Annika Hansen so that the newly married Annika and Chakotay could have their baby. A baby they named Kathryn.

Tonight her father had looked wistful, almost sad when he proffered her the PADD containing the message.

The last few weeks had thrown her into an emotional spin. Her parents were happy, that was clear for all to see, yet it felt to her as if they were holding back. She wanted to tell them she was no longer a little girl of four or the seven year old who took everything in her stride. They could tell her things, things she felt she was old and mature enough to absorb. Instead, they'd continued being happy with each other and leaving her out of things. She wondered always, since months after recovering from her illness, just what the relationship between Captain and First Officer, man and woman, captain and friend had been like. Always wondering, always afraid to ask, with them always refraining from offering anything tangible.

It was bound to happen, she knew. They didn't tell her everything about their life on Voyager, yet things filtered through. Things Miral let drop, or that other itch, Miral's brother Owen McKenzie Junior, was always teasing her with - little hints of a life on Voyager. Things obviously discussed by his own parents and overheard by their children. And always, "You didn't hear _that_ from me," while the ridges on his forehead, a little less pronounced than Miral's, seemed to glow with added condemnation. She hated Miral and she hated Owen junior, that's for sure. Now she wasn't sure how to feel anymore about her mother and father. They had furtive, guilty looks in their eyes just before they left and took Edward Adam with them. Good thing too. She was ready to have Keely bite Edward's heels just for looking like he was going to stay and give her grief again.

She'd asked Chakotay, "Must I really read it? Can't I just leave it?" His dejected look made her feel instantly guilty, especially when he tried to smile and his dimple showed. "Fine, I'll read it," she'd added but didn't bother to take it from his hand.

"In case you're wondering, honey, I didn't read the message. I know nothing of what Mama has left you…"

She'd given her father a nod, then impulsively rushed forward to hug him. Her mother had looked sad too, but had already passed through the door when she'd hugged Chakotay. Edward Adam had turned and said," Don't you dare open my present, Katie."

"Or what?" she'd asked.

"Or I'll tell…"

She'd shaken her head. What was there to tell? She never liked Owen Junior anyway…

Now the PADD stared back at her. In a few hours her parents would return home. Edward Adam was to arrive only the next morning with Grandma Gretchen and Grandpa Adam.

She knew it was cowardly the way she delayed reading Annika Hansen's message. What was there to know about the woman who gave birth to her? She'd saved her daughter's life four years after her death. That was a miracle. Annika died in an accident. What more was there to know about that? What more?

They'd made a little pact, yes, when Kathryn Janeway decided to help her first officer and his wife and then, according to that vulky Owen junior, the captain made them leave Earth to live in the Federation's furthest outpost, Ketarcha Prime. She was over that. But it had always been so difficult to talk to her parents, especially after her life was saved. She'd been glad to be alive and in the first few weeks after her recovery everyone had been too euphoric to notice how quiet Katie had become.

Papa had found the PADD buried under the debris of the conn of Mama's shuttle. There was a message for Katie, to be read on her sixteenth birthday. Christmas Eve was as close to being her sixteenth birthday… What could Mama possibly have to tell her daughter years after her death? What?

Sighing again, Katie walked to the large couch, took up the PADD and entered her codes. She gave an inward grin. Owen McKenzie Paris junior would have said, "Well, here goes nothing…"

 

* * *

 

My dear Katie

You are an hour or two, perhaps even minutes away from your sixteenth birthday, if all has gone according to plan.

I would like to tell you a story and perhaps then you might understand  why loving you became as painful to me as the day your father disconnected me from the Collective.

It is the story of three individuals - me, your father and Captain Kathryn Janeway. By now you should know that Kathryn Janeway made us a gift of a pregnancy. It is the story of a great friendship and maybe at the end of it, you will understand why I always felt that I intruded even while married to your father.

From the start Chakotay mistrusted me as I adjusted to life on Voyager. He did so for a long time and gradually, very slowly it turned to trust. But that is not what I am about here. This is the story of a deep friendship between your father and Captain Janeway.

One of their great arguments had been about me and my presence on Voyager. It feels somewhat distant now and my recollections of those days were tainted by my growing affection, which, unable to give any voice to what was happening to me, had developed into a deep kind of love.

As a Borg my existence was made up of absolutes in which feelings, emotions, regret, shame, conscience and compassion had no relevance. Love was alien to me. I had no idea of its strength, of the things - right and wrong - one could engage in in the name of that emotion. I bore this cross in silence at first, then later began examining dating behaviour and discovered, through the ship's database as well as observing many of the crew, that I could indulge in certain fantasies.

I first became aware of their closeness while I was regenerating in my alcove which was situated in the ship's cargo bay. They'd both been there, though unaware that I could hear their voices, coming from far off, it seemed. It is possible that my feelings for Chakotay made me more aware of nuances in voice control, tone. So I chose to listen to them.

_"She is a member of our crew, therefore part of this new collective," Kathryn Janeway said._

_"I don't trust her. The Borg…I told you before… They're scorpions. They don't change their nature."_

_"But don't you see, Chakotay? The capacity for change is within all of us. She is no different from any other crewmember who has had difficulty of fitting in."_

_"Like me?"_

_"You…er, yes, if you must know. But your nature is Starfleet. Sometimes I think you are more Starfleet than I am. If I were to follow you across ten galaxies, you would remain Starfleet at heart."_

_"Only because you were the officer sent to capture me. If you were anyone else…"_

_"So…you'll consider yourself captured for tonight's dinner in my quarters?"_

_"Oh, Kathryn," Chakotay chuckled, "I'll only gaze at my captor the entire evening."_

_"Where we'll discuss Seven's position on the ship."_

_There was a pause before Chakotay answered._

_"Fine. As long as you're in charge of making her human…"_

Even while I was regenerating, I could sense how close they were standing, how the captain's hand must have rested on his shoulder, or even how she looked up at him, their eyes revealing peace after argument.

That was what defined them the most. There was a certain dream-like intimacy in the way they touched, or sat with their heads close together, even when they disagreed. As if they knew that minutes later the argument would be resolved and the hurt of fighting receding to make way for the pleasure of reconciling.

It was an ability I did not possess, not even in my marriage. How I dreamed I could have that which transcended even the best of marriages. How I sometimes wished I could make him angry just to taste first-hand the joy of making peace afterwards. But in our marriage your father was a different man. I began to notice the subtle change in him barely a year after we married. He was placid, non-confrontational in the way he had never been with Captain Janeway. Admiral Janeway now, I should say. A good kind of confrontational, I can tell you. The kind that knew where their boundaries were, which they could cross and which they sensed enough to back away. With her he had been like that. With me? I sometimes yearned for just a glimpse of the angry warrior.

Theirs was a friendship so rare, so profound that it was impossible to emulate. One could crave it, yes, but never enjoy the privilege of experiencing it.

Perhaps that was why I had no thought at the time of just how great the gift was Kathryn Janeway gave us. That day in sickbay, before we disembarked…

_"There, that's the entire procedure completed," the EMH said. "You must remain on Earth for at least a month before you travel off-world."_

_"Thank you." She sat up on the biobed, her hand caressing her belly, thinking how she'd soon be swelling with child._

_"I must remind you that you'll basically be a - "_

_" - maturation chamber. I know and I understand, Doctor."_

_But the child will be mine and Chakotay's, the thought coursed through her. My very own child to love, to teach and raise in the best traditions of humanity._

I'd glanced at Captain Janeway, a quick look that was enough to surprise the pain in her eyes. Perhaps in those early days it registered only as the sadness of parting from us, the prospect of never seeing her best friend again.

But I was wrong. So very wrong.

Barely three years later that look has come to haunt me. It has suffused me with guilt and regret I've laboured with since your birth:  young Kathryn - the living, breathing reminder that you were never mine to begin with. Mine to love, yes. Mine to raise and nurture. Mine to kiss goodnight, to brush away tears, to teach never to cry…

Not mine. For dear, sweet little Kathryn, you were so like your real mother that living with you every day became a lance that pierced my heart.

I was Borg. Much of the austerity of being Borg remained with me. You are too little and your father too preoccupied to suspect the pain I carried inside me. You called me Mama, but I always felt that I did not deserve that designation.

For how can I explain that I always felt like an intruder into something not of this world and holy? How?

Your father had become detached and brooding. He'd go missing for hours. I'd find him on the platform jutting over Ketarcha Prime's Great Canyon where the condors circled. I'd spot him from a distance but always resisted the urge to disturb him. He'd have a faraway look in his eyes. What demons was he wrestling? What thoughts could possess him so? When he returned, there'd be residue of that restlessness lurking in his eyes for days afterwards.

Yet I knew where he dwelt. A friendship such as your father and Captain Janeway shared was too precious to destroy. But destroy it, they did. So your father always found his way to the Great Canyon, there to dwell on his past.

I love you, little Kathryn. I love you with my whole heart. I want you to know that. I want you to know that wherever I find myself, I carry you in my heart always.

But it was so difficult not to give in to bitterness! As you grew your features matured. Your blue eyes and your golden locks could no longer be mistaken as replicas of my own. In almost every respect you resembled Admiral Kathryn Janeway.

I want to tell you how I used to watch them, as every crewmember on board Voyager watched them. They were a team of two in charge of a family of one hundred and forty. Inseparable even in dire circumstances, especially in dire circumstances. There were bets on whether they were intimate. There were bets on when they would inform the crew of their relationship. That they were intimate was a bet Lieutenant Ayala won. There were bets on a coming marriage, on when they would marry, who would be witnesses. All the rules of engagement as it were, were present. All they had to do was to validate those rules and satisfy every romantic heart on the ship. It is hard to believe that when I became a member of the crew, barely four years into their journey, those bets had already been flying about.

Yet as every heart and head waited, so Commander Chakotay waited.  Their wishes and desires were his too. In the end, new scuttlebutt alluded to how unfair she was in making him wait, how she deferred answers, how no answers were forthcoming, how she was only interested in getting her ship and crew home, how she paid homage to duty without a single thought for herself. Once, I overheard Tom Paris tell B'Elanna how no one could blame Chakotay if he chose someone else.

He did choose another. I loved him; I must have loved him from the day I was disconnected from the Collective. That day he referred to me by my birth name: Annika. When he turned to me, I think it flattered his battered ego that someone other than Kathryn Janeway found him attractive, gave him the time of day, as Tom Paris would say. He began to smile again and the austerity and deep lines of worry left his face.

We married. I was happy. Chakotay was…contented. That day in sickbay… We were too overjoyed to notice how Kathryn Janeway looked. She dropped her guard for a few seconds. Her sadness was not one of friendship past, but unbelievably intense in her grief. Three years later I feel the same grief. It is the grief of letting go of love, of love lost, of giving freely with no counting the cost. She revealed that for a few raw seconds, but our own joy then overshadowed any feelings of guilt we might have felt had we given ourselves time enough to reflect on it.

But it stayed with me. It stayed with your father, for now I know that he had seen that look in her eyes too. It ensured that he go crawling to the look-out point at the Great Canyon and stand there for hours. I no longer wonder why. I know why.

It pains me to be so open, so torn in admitting this.

One day, you were particularly stubborn. I told you that only the daughter of Kathryn Janeway could be so stubborn. You stood, small as you were, with your hands on your hips and you lips pressed mutinously together. I couldn't help myself but in those moments my bitterness overflowed and the fermenting of a decision, long delayed, reached its conclusion.

I love you as much as it is within my ability to love. Therefore my decision is immersed in the utmost pain. You belong not to a lonely Borg, but to Kathryn Janeway, your real mother.

I must leave our collective of three in order that you shower your affection where it is deserved. I leave so that your father can experience the full measure of a deep, abiding and holy love. I leave because I can no longer deceive myself that Chakotay loves me. It has become unbearable to look at you and not see your real mother in your hair, your eyes, your lips, the tilt of your mouth when you want to smile, in your very stance. Sometimes I think I hear her in your voice too.

Remember me as the mother who hosted you for a brief period. Remember me as someone who did try her best. Remember me as the mother who'd give her life for you were it not that right now, I feel like a coward.

I have never considered Earth's festivals around Christmas relevant. The only relevance it has had for me was that you were born on that day and that I named you for the woman who showed me the true meaning of compassion and love.

I am on my way to conduct research on Almor IV. The results will be sent to the Ketarchan Science Institute. I shall be returning to Ketarcha Prime for a few days only to arrange that you have a tree for Christmas. I know your father has a beautiful little angel that goes on the top of the tree. After that I leave as I have already made arrangements to settle and work on Vulcan.

As I say my goodbye to you, I wish for you to experience the peace and goodwill of Christmas.

Annika Hansen.

**END PART ONE**

* * *

PART TWO

Long after she had finished reading the message, Katie stared unseeingly at the dying embers. She tried to picture the woman who had given birth to her, remembered vaguely how Seven of Nine never smiled. Over the years she'd been allowed by her parents to study Voyager's official logs and most of what she'd read here in the message from Seven was never revealed. Katie understood that private logs were private, but what she read here was a revelation.

But one thought that ran through her, over and over, was the realisation that Seven of Nine was going to leave them anyway. She'd already made plans to settle on Vulcan, make that world her new home without husband and child.

"Only, she died before she could execute her plans…" the words fell from Katie's lips in a soft whisper.

Then other things came rushing into her brain… Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay, captain and first officer of Voyager, loved each other long before Seven of Nine came on the scene, maybe since the beginning of time. Always, the warrior promised the princess in the stories her father used to tell her, that he'd stay by her side forever. Were they the warrior and princess in her favourite book?

Why didn't she ever know? Why did they keep this from her? Why?

Katie felt suddenly cold. She wrapped her arms round her, rubbing to get some warmth. The fireplace came into focus at last. The fire was almost out, the embers dying, throwing a low, dark gleam into the room. From far off she heard Keely whining, although the dog made no attempt to rise from her warm place next the fire.

"Wood," she decided suddenly, "I must get wood."

The PADD clanked to the floor as she jerked up, too restless to calm down.

"She was always going to leave," Katie muttered. "To give Daddy a chance to be happy! She always knew…they always knew… Only I didn't!"

She donned her mother's parka, a pair of boots and opened the front door. The icy cold hit her with such sudden fierceness that she gasped for air. She stomped off the porch and into the thick snow. Keely stood in the open doorway whining and when Katie turned to look at the dog, she wagged a finger.

"You little coward, afraid of the snow!"

Keely ran to the end of the porch but remained at the bottom step, half offended at Katie's accusation.

When Katie began walking, Keely barked furiously.

"Shut up! What do you know of my feelings? They could have told me, you know. I'm not a little girl anymore. Why did they keep silent about something so important?"

She stumbled against the old tree root and cursed aloud.

"Dad! You were supposed to chop it away years ago," she yelled into the darkness while trudging along to the side of the house. "And you!" she yelled at the dog, "you are so busted, girl! You were supposed to protect me!"

Only now she realised that she'd forgotten to put on a pair of gloves. She rubbed her hands furiously to gain some warmth. But the agonising thoughts kept coming

"They were always in love! Here I was thinking that Mom only made a donation of a freakin' egg out of pity and compassion! No strings attached, except go away to the farthest outpost where she didn't have to see how happy they were!"

She reached the side of the house and headed for the wooden container.

"In love, you hear that? In love! Like Nicholas and Alexandra, like Tristan and Iseult, like Abelard and Heloise, like…like Janeway and Chakotay up there with the best of them!"

She loaded an armful of logs, keeping up her string of invectives and outpourings of rage.

"But I'm not surprised, okay? Not surprised! Not when Daddy can melt even my heart with a look and I'm only a girl and Mom can make Dad do anything just by looking at him. Well, aside from the freakin' tree root!"

"It's in their eyes. I always knew _that_!" she muttered as she started her return trip to the warmth of the lounge.

"There is no guilt, you hear me? Mama wanted to leave anyway…"

"She loved me after all. How can I repay her? How?" Katie cried.

In the cold, lonely night, with only the moon and the stars as company, Katie raised her face to them.

"Why did they keep it from me? Why did I have to hear from others? Mama loved me enough to let me come to my real mother. She didn't have to do it…"

She trudged through the snow, her gait uneven as she tried to balance the logs in her arms and keep moving forward. She thought of the message, how Annika Hansen was going to bring them a Christmas tree even though she didn't believe in Christmas and miracles. She'd been so mad the last few weeks at her parents, dour and unfriendly, even when she could see how they tried to reach her. What did they know of being a teenager? What did they know of the digs of her friends that her parents were lovers on board Voyager even when Chakotay was married to Seven of Nine? She been so mad…so mad… Why couldn't they just be open with her and tell her things before other gossipmongers got to her?

She howled at the moon in her adolescent rage.

"I need a miracle tonight too. I know they love each other, they love me! Make me happy, please…"

Katie hardly noticed that she reached the tree with its old exposed root, stumbling against it. She pitched forward, the logs flying through the air. As she fell, her head hit a log that had landed upright in the snow.

She gave an anguished cry before everything went black, lost in the oblivion of unconsciousness. Keely barked frantically before making it through the snow to sit by his mistress, the dog howling helplessly at the moon.

*****

Kathryn Janeway studied her husband as he sat at the conn of their shuttle. Chakotay looked strained; he had been looking like that all evening. He'd sat quietly next to her during the midnight service, and once, when she'd touched his hand where it rested on his thigh, he'd looked at her, not smiling.

She sighed. He was unhappy about Katie, she knew. Earlier, when they'd left Indiana, she wanted to give the two of them some space, time alone to get through what was ailing both of them. The last few months had been hard, with Katie uncommonly dour and recalcitrant. Kathryn put it down to normal adolescent transition, the things teenagers went through before they settled somewhat.

Katie had taken to studying them both surreptitiously, as if she waited for something, a sign or first evidence of trouble in the Janeway household.

Kathryn  loved her husband, probably more than she loved her daughter, though she'd give her life for both of them if it had to come to that. But something about Katie's behaviour was a little off, she thought, not the usual teenage angst, but something deeper.

Kathryn wondered if Katie didn't ponder still on her life with Seven of Nine, of how the deceased woman's napoprobes saved their daughter's life. She was ready to admit that Katie had accepted everything naturally and unconditionally when she was little, but over the years might have taken to pondering about the woman who had given birth to her.

Tonight Chakotay had tried his best not to lose his cool with Katie and he'd half surrendered to her, so contrary to his nature. He simply placed the PADD on the corner table when Katie had refused to take it from him. Kathryn knew it was a message from Seven for Katie, to be read when she turned sixteen. That part of what the PADD contained was not unknown to her. Chakotay had told her years ago, when Katie had been so critically ill.

She prayed fervently that whatever Seven's message contained for their daughter would allay all her fears and bring her closure. Katie knew very little about Seven of Nine, other than the official logs of Voyager and Chakotay's sometimes offhand reference to Seven's tendency to regard all things as irrelevant. Chakotay needed to find his daughter again. She needed to find Katie again. Katie needed to find her parents again.

They'd thought that letting her stay behind would give her time and space to reflect and perhaps on this night, Christmas Eve…Christmas, Kathryn amended, since it was long past twelve, Katie's sixteenth birthday. Perhaps on this night, there might be a miracle for them after all.

Another sigh escaped her. This time Chakotay glanced at her.

"We'll get through this, Kathryn. She's just going through a phase."

"She's a contrary, like you were at that age, honey."

"Contrary or not, I hope we'll find her in better spirits when we get home. Fortunately Edward Adam agreed to stay with Grandma Gretchen. He'd at least be out of Katie's hair for a few hours."

Kathryn smiled, her spirits lifting. "Remember that night when Katie recovered from her illness? She told us the angel brought us another gift…"

"Aye. And from his birth Edward had given poor Katie grief."

"They're siblings. What do you expect?" Kathryn said, sitting back in her seat, relieved that the air of depression has lifted. In minutes they would touch down and nothing was going to spoil the good atmosphere between them, she decided.

It had snowed all afternoon yesterday and by now icicles would adorn the eaves of the farmhouse like a band of lace. Her heartbeat quickened. She was suddenly in a hurry to be home and warm. She still had warm memories of that night Chakotay had come to her to ask if she had room at the inn for two. She pictured Katie standing by the tree and how their eyes had connected, how awed she'd been when Katie had taken naturally to her.

"We're here," Chakotay's voice broke through her reverie and she realised that she must have dosed off too.

"Already?"

"Aye. Let's go home, sweetheart."

As they disembarked, they heard the sound of a dog barking. Kathryn's ears pricked instantly and Chakotay glanced at her.

"Keely?"

Hardly had he spoken than they saw the dog bounding through the snow. Keely appeared like a grey wolf in the dim moonlit night.

"Something's wrong, Chakotay."

"Indeed. This lady dog never - "

The dog jumped up at him before he could finish his words. Then Keely loped away before returning to Chakotay, running off again.

"We must hurry, Kathryn," Chakotay said. "Something has happened to Katie."

"How - how do you know?"

He grabbed Kathryn's gloved hand and started running after the dog, pulling Kathryn along. "Remember that night Katie and I arrived here?"

"Yes, what about that night?"

"Kathryn, honey, Missy ran up to me and warned me that something had happened. I found you lying unconscious in the snow, remember?"

"Oh, spirits, Chakotay!"

They were both out of breath by the time the reached the homestead. The front door stood open, light flooding the area outside. Keely had gone straight to the tree. In the dim light they could see a figure lying in the snow.

"Katie! Katie!" they both shouted as they raced to reach her. Chakotay got there first.

"Kathryn, get some of - "

"I know." Kathryn picked up a few logs Katie had dropped and ran into the house. Chakotay lifted Katie and carried her inside and lay her gently down on the couch in front of the dying fire. He rubbed Katie's hands, patted her cheek.

"Katie, honey…"

Kathryn had returned with the med-kit and soon they were able to revive their daughter, the deep gash against her forehead receding slowly. Katie stirred, heavy lids beginning to open. A fresh fire was already crackling in the hearth, throwing the room in a golden glow.

***

She groaned, then tried to sit up. The room felt warm.

"Steady, now," she heard her father say.

When she could focus properly, two pairs of concerned eyes stared at her.

"Mom? Papa?"

"We found you lying in the snow. Hit your head pretty hard," said Chakotay.

"And Lady Keely came bounding through the snow. We knew then something had happened. Keely never runs through the snow," Kathryn added.

"I…fell?"

"Just like years ago, when - "

"We found Mommy in the snow. Missy had come running through the snow," Katie completed her father's sentence.

Katie looked at her mother. She gave a sob and hurtled into Kathryn's arms, arms that comforted, that felt so much like home, she gave a deep sigh of contentment.

Minutes later Katie sat back and looked at both of them. They looked almost afraid, the thought ran through her, expectant and afraid. Her heart swelled

"I read Mama's message…I understand so much better,"

"Then I'm glad, sweetheart, " said Chakotay, a relieved smile changing his concerned expression. "I worried about you…"

"I'm sorry I gave you so much grief the last few months. But everything is okay now. I'm so sorry, Mom."

"You were going through a difficult time, Katie. I understand."

"Mama was right, and Papa?"

"Yes?"

"She knew. Maybe that time when she had the accident, she was preoccupied, or something. But she knew…"

"What - what did she know, honey?" Kathryn asked and Katie's eyes closed when her mother's gentle hand caressed her cheek.

She wanted to tell them right away that Seven of Nine was going to leave and settle on Vulcan. She wanted to tell them right away how Seven of Nine described the relationship of Kathryn and Chakotay, how she wanted to compare it to the great loves of the novels and stories she had read. There would be time enough in the coming months to tell them of Seven's message. Right now, it was her birthday and the best present she could have was right in front of her.

Right here, encompassing her in their warmth.

"Katie?"

"You were meant for each other…"

Tears filled Kathryn Janeway's eyes. Her father's smile reached his eyes.

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday, sweetheart," Kathryn said softly.

Katie threw herself against her.

"I love you, Mom…"

**** 

END


End file.
